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I posted a comment on my Facebook page the other day that started me thinking...the comment is: If you think you are too small to be effective, you have never been in the dark with a mosquito.

I’m sure we’ve all been in that predicament. You’re in bed, trying to get to sleep, and you hear that familiar, high-pitched whine...and you know you are not alone. Funny how the thought of just that tiny mosquito can overtake your need for sleep.

But that’s just it...that tiny mosquito is not too small to be effective.

Last week a 13-year-old girl was choked by her boyfriend, who is 16, because she looked at another boy. I am told that incidents like this one occur almost daily. The girl said she didn't want anything to happen to him.

During a meeting a week ago, I had the opportunity to talk with some young ladies about things that bother them most. The youngest in the group was 15 and her concerns were for the safety of her friends. Their boyfriends, she said, hit them when they "get out of line."

I fell victim to a nasty sinus infection last week. I think it had been coming on for several days, as I’d been sniffly and sneezy for a while, along with a few other symptoms, including a headache and achy joints.

But I quickly made my way to the doctor, and got a Z-Pack, which is a fast way to get over anything that ails you.

Last week a young man from Florida A&M University called me. He said he was a journalism student and was interested in a career shadowing experience. My first thought was that I was busy Thursday with a trial, my regular work and a lecture at the art center. I did not want to be a babysitter for someone who, when they found out that journalists make no money, would run for a higher paying job.

They tore our high school down. Now, that will frost your wheat cakes. Most of us were out of town when it happened. I have no idea who makes those kinds of decisions. I’m sure it had something to do with growth, progress and asbestos-free ceiling tile. I don’t believe anyone in our class got a vote in the deal.

Aw, shucks! The ball bounced weakly on two hops right back to the pitcher. My heart sank. With men on second and third I had dug in just seconds before thinking I was going to be the hero. It was not to be the case this at-bat. A thousand thoughts raced through my head as the ball sank into the pitcher’s mitt, none of them good. Failure is not a pleasant companion. I was already two steps toward first base, going through the motions of hustling out the play.

Me and Buddy Wiggleton and Bob Edwards used to push and shove our way through the baseball glove section of Robert Hall’s Western Auto. The new leather had such a wonderful smell. And you mix in the distinctive aroma of the Neat’s foot oil and the rubber hoses from the auto displays on the next aisle and that combined scent was the Western Auto store. We didn’t linger to enjoy it. As a matter of fact, we were in such a hurry to get the good 99 cent Wilson baseball that we barely noticed.

The government once again has moved too slowly to help me. Where was this clunker program idea in 1954? Was Congress so engrossed in the Joseph McCarthy saga that they forgot about the rest of us? Was Eisenhower more interested in practicing his golf or monitoring the Marshall Plan than to my lonely plight in West Tennessee? Was the entire world’s attention averted by the Monroe-DiMaggio wedding?

It was late August when me, Ricky and Hollis Mayo decided to quit school. We figured we had gone about as far as we could go. “We can read and cipher. How much more do you need?” is the way Rick put it. We made a pact not to show up for the new school year. We decided to go to California and make movies with Roy and Gene. It looked like a lot of fun and Hollis maintained, “The way the teachers dote on Pam, Susie, Ruth Ann and the rest of the girls, they won’t nobody miss us ‘til Christmas!”

My football career started in the front yard. We lived out at the end of Stonewall Street. Our nearest neighbors in those early years were Mr. and Mrs. Brooks. I figured them to be in their mid 80s, a little old for a quarterback or tight end. Besides, they worked all the time. That left me and Leon and David Mark. It didn’t take us long to choose up sides.